


Before It All Falls Apart

by ididntdoit_blameitonthedragon



Series: Altean Bedtime Stories [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Hurt, Langst, M/M, One-Sided Love, Sad, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 08:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15991184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididntdoit_blameitonthedragon/pseuds/ididntdoit_blameitonthedragon
Summary: It wasn’t meant to turn out like this. Everything had always been so different in his head, but this was nothing like…this.It wasn’t meant to turn out like this.****His death is sudden and unexpected. The one that loved him will forever regret what was said, and what wasn't....





	Before It All Falls Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Warning now in case you didn't notice, but there's character death. Other than that, I hope you like this piece. And apologises in advance.

The words hung in the air like the stench of death. They haunted Keith, the echoes resonating in his head like pitiful cries.  
He could feel his own heart thundering in his chest, he could feel the panic within him rising. 

He wished that he could take back those words, snatch them from the air and crush them so that they were nothing but dust in his fist. He wished he could make it so that it would be as if they had never been spoken in the first place. 

But they had.  
And no amount of wishing would change that. 

“I… I don't—”

“Just forget it,” Keith spat, words like bullets as they flew from his mouth. Harsh, direct. Full of hate.  
He wanted the floor to crumble around him. He begged that a hole would appear at his feet and he would fall into the depths of Space, never to be seen or heard from again.

_Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut?_  
_Why did he have to blurt out those damned words?_

Now he was doomed. He had ruined _everything._  
He had ruined their friendship, if they were ever friends in the first place. But now, they were only teammates in name. Paladins who fought beside one another, tolerating one another. They were no longer friends.  
Keith had ruined it all.

“Forget I said anything,” Keith spat, breaking the silence before he could stutter out any more questions. Before he had a chance to laugh at the boy for tripping over his own feet and falling hard.  
But compassion wasn’t Keith’s cape as he rounded on the other, fists clenched, eyes burning with hatred meant for himself. Not for him. _Never_ for _him._

“Don't say a word to anyone else. We’ll just pretend this never happened.”  
He made to speak, but Keith stepped closer. “It. Never. Happened.”  
And with that, the Red Paladin stormed out of the training room, his steps brisk as he led himself to the locker room, leaving a very shocked, and very confused Sharpshooter behind, with only the echoes of a love confession.

>>\--> \-------------------- >>\--> <\--<< \-------------------- <\--<<

Keith didn't know if he trusted Lance with the secret he had revealed. Stupidly. In the heat of the moment, both of them panting from training. They’d been sparring with one another; Keith relaxed in Lance’s company, letting his mind wander until suddenly he confessed his feelings to Lance and watched the smile slip from his face.

Keith hadn’t seen that smile since.  
For three days, if ever they were together in a room, it would be averted eyes and folded arms. Scowls and questioning glances that would send Keith storming from the suffocating silence as the team watched on. They’d ask Lance why.  
Or maybe they wouldn’t because they already knew. Lance had already told them. He hadn’t kept Keith’s secret a secret. 

For three days he felt wandering eyes snatching glances.  
At breakfast, in the training hall, the corridors, _everywhere._ Even when Keith was laid in his bed, trying to sleep, he could feel the darkness watching him. Judging him. Tormenting him.

_How could he have been so stupid!_

The Sharpshooter and Swordsman had not exchanged words since Keith's outburst. He was barely able to stand in the same room with him, afraid of what Lance might say. The questions he might voice. _The answer to the question he never planned to ask._

But it wasn’t just Lance that received the cold shoulder.  
Keith was avoiding everyone where necessary, clipped answers when they asked if he was okay, closed doors to Shiro, Allura, Hunk who would come asking if he was well. Pidge kept their distance, clinging to Lance’s side. And soon, everyone else was leaving Keith alone too.  
The team were still claiming victory over the Galra during the times the patrols found them, or Voltron stumbled upon Galra bases. They still wrestled back control of planets from Zarkon’s claim, still holding their own against their enemies.  
So, no one saw fit to patch Keith and Lance’s rift. Not at least until it could be ignored no longer. 

But weeks passed and silence was still Keith’s only companion. He trained alone, ate alone and fought alone, taking Red into the vastness in hopes of finding battleships of which he’d vent his anger. Not to Lance, but to himself, for letting his mind speak unwillingly.  
No one approved, no matter how much they tried to convince Keith to stop, to slow down. 

But they knew. They _must’ve_ known.  
Hunk, surely. He’s Lance’s best friend; has been since the beginning of time. If Lance was to confide in anyone it would be Hunk. And Hunk would offer his advice where needed.  
Every time Keith caught a glimpse of him, he'd smile knowingly, as if he knew Keith's feelings towards Lance.

But no, there was no way. Lance would be just as much embarrassed as Keith if anyone found out. Or would he be ashamed of the fact others knew of Keith’s affection towards him.  
There would be no way he’d let Allura know. He loved her, so why would he want to reveal to her the problems between himself and Keith. 

_Was Allura looking at him funny?_  
She was trying to get his attention, her eyes moving from Pidge to Keith again and again, not even trying to be subtle, yet still dropping her gaze when Keith met her eyes. When the Red Paladin scowled, the Princess blushed, glanced to Lance and returned whole-heartedly to her discussion with Pidge about Castle configuration updates.  
Keith didn’t call her out. She was avoiding him, just as Keith was avoiding her.  
But, Allura seemed to be conscious of it. Or at least battling the idea of silence between the teams. Naturally it didn’t fit in her view point that this was the perfect team and something needed to be done….  
But she wasn’t doing anything.  
None of them were doing anything. 

Every time their eyes met, Allura would quickly look away. The others too.  
Not even Shiro, who would stand for tension between any of the team. Since Keith told him to leave him be, Shiro has done just that. Usually he’d be all in Keith’s business until the problem was solved, or at least Shiro had all the details so that he could guide Keith in how to solve it himself. 

But then, all there was, was silence. He couldn’t scold Keith for fighting with Lance because they weren’t even talking. So Shiro would find ways for the pair of them to be alone, so that Shiro could try and subtly question the Red Paladin. 

But Keith was dead set on training every day; locking himself in the training room with the Gladiators and his gruelling thoughts. When someone came to invade, he’d find shelter with Red, who had the decency to know that Keith wanted silent company, not a stern mother telling him he’s an idiot and he’s destroyed everything.  
So she stays silent and Keith stays with her. 

Even with intelligence and a sentience of her own, Red didn’t understand the implications of Keith’s feelings to Lance. Or… _wait._  
_Did_ she know? And understand? That Keith had destroyed his friendship with those simple, yet earth-shattering words.  
Keith had always thought that Red would accept all of him. He had hoped all of the team would accept him. He didn't think it would matter if he was attracted to Lance. He wouldn't let that get in the way of their promise, or their bond as Paladins, all fighting in a war to save, not just mankind, but the entirety of the Universe from Zarkon’s reign.  
Was she disgusted by Keith's feelings? Was that why she would speak to him, and simply allowed him to pilot her for the sake of Voltron and the Universe’s victory over the Galra. 

_Wait._ Everyone was avoiding him.  
_Did that mean they all felt the same way?_

Everyone was avoiding him.  
Except for Lance, who refused to break his gaze from Keith’s.  
Hard set eyes, a blank expression and a thousand questions. Voiced when the boy cornered Keith in his quarters after blowing him and the team off for the thousandth time. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Lance hissed, slamming Keith back into the wall when the boy tried to avoid him.  
Keith glared but said nothing. Lance shoved him again. 

“I don’t get it. We were fine, we’re friends and now all of a sudden, it’s like we’re your worst enemies or something. They’re all worried about you, about us—”  
“There’s no _us,”_ Keith growled angrily, hiding his embarrassment behind a snarl. The display didn’t make Lance back down however. 

_“Bull. Shit._ What you said wasn’t a joke. And it wasn’t something that either of _us_ should be ignoring either.”  
“I said to forget about it,” Keith snarled, shoving back, pushing away from the wall so that he wasn’t cornered. Lance matched him with his own, hoarse snarl, arms up, hands pushing Keith back until he slammed into the wall again. “What if I can’t? What if I don’t want to?”  
“Like I care. What I said was wrong and I shouldn’t of. Now you have the perfect weapon against me and its because I was stupid and went and said something I shouldn’t.” 

Something in Keith’s rant washed the anger from Lance immediately. He stopped, stepped back, frowned. “Weapon? You think I’d—”  
“You told them,” the Red Paladin spat, not ready to release the heat from inside him, feeling it clench his fists and heat his cheeks as memories surfaced of his own bumbling confession. And anger to Lance who had told the others just how he felt about his comrade, how it made him feel disgusted, how Keith was never one of them, never a team player, a hot-head, a fool. 

_“And can you believe it? That freak says he loves me.”_

“You told them, even though I told you to forget about it.”  
“I didn’t—”  
“You did!”

“No I—”  
“Then why is there a rift between all of them and me? Why does everyone tip-toe about me like I’m a walking time bomb?”  
“Because they know you’re angry, but they don’t know why. They think we’ve fought and I agreed to that so they didn’t go poking their noses in our business,” Lance said quickly, raising his hands in an attempt to stop Keith from shouting and gathering the others.  
Why not? If they don’t know, then it’s only a matter of time.  
Let them hear.  
_Let them judge._

“There is no _“our business.”_ There’s nothing between us, whether I love you or I don’t,” Keith growled, ignoring the pain in his chest from speaking the words aloud. “And this time when I mean forget it, then you _forget it.”_  
But Lance refused to backdown. Keith turned, making to escape, but with a tight grip on the boy’s wrist, Lance wasn’t about to let him go anywhere. “Keith I—”  
The Red Paladin turned, radiating fury, eyes aflame, close to tearing. His embarrassment at saying those words again. But shame wasn’t an emotion Keith knew who to deal with, so he hid it behind his anger. And anger took hold.  
Keith snatched his wrist from Lance’s grasp, forcing him back against the wall, with enough force Lance hit his head. He grimaced from pain. “Hey calm d—” but Keith just forced his hand against Lance and pushed him back into the wall again, coming in close enough he could feel Lance’s breath ghosting on his cheek. 

“You better not say a word. If not, I'll kill you.”  
Keith didn't know why he was blaming Lance. He was blaming him for his feelings.  
Blaming Lance for the pain of this one-sided love that was no more of a thorn in his side, rather than the discomfort of a pang in his chest every time he saw him. Blaming Lance for all the pain of having to distance himself from him, from Shiro, from all of them. Blaming him as if everything was his fault.

It _was_ his fault. 

Keith felt his hand reach for his bayard.

Lance didn't notice; his caramel eyes wide in shock as Keith pushed closer. Weight on his palms, eyes flickering from face, to lips, eyes and neck as the frightening thought of killing Lance to silence him crossed his mind. And Lance, trying not to think of the weight of the threat meant. Too shocked, too confused to fight back.  
_He wasn’t even resisting…._

Keith forced himself closer. Lance, pinned to the wall by his hands and body, unable to escape the stolen kiss that Keith pulled from his lips. One he deepened by sheer force of will, his strength and the wall keeping from Lance breaking this moment. Made perfect from the movement of Lance’s lips, imagined to be moving in tandem to his own desperate actions.  
And open mouth was a gift from the gods, sending Keith’s heart a flutter. He pushed his hands up, fingers curling into the steady growing lengths of Lance’s hair, inhaling the scent of this boy he had been in love with for who knows how long. 

They were kissing.  
Fuck, they were _kissing._

The Sharpshooter made a noise in the back of his throat, but before Keith could figure out what it was, it was snatched away as he nipped at the other’s tongue, exploring the Cuban’s mouth with his own. One hand snaking down to Lance’s hips, his fingers pressed into the man's bone, feeling the thrum of his own blood in his head, listening to Lance's quickened heartbeat that beat out of tandem of his own—

“Paladins, it’s the Galra! They’ve found us!”

Coran’s worried voice shattered the Red Paladin’s resolve. With the corridor thrown into the colours of his armour, the sound of the perimeter alarm blaring, he barely had time to refocus his mind before he and Lance were staring, slack jawed at one another, just as confused, just as…. 

Keith ran, already suited in his armour from training, heading straight for the main doors. With the ship still out of action from the Galra’s last ambush, they were stranded on the slip-side of _Genwar._ The planet’s dense jungle gave the incoming ground patrols plenty of cover from the Lions and an aerial assault, meaning it was hand to hand battle on the jungle floor.  
It wasn’t as if the Paladins were caught unawares however. They knew the Galra were searching, and with a plan already in place, the team separated. With Pidge and Shiro in the sky taking down the Djalg that had split from the main ground patrol. That left Hunk, Keith and Lance to work together to ward off the ground units. 

But fighting wasn’t Keith’s focus. Even with the droids falling by increasing numbers, and the danger of being injured without focus, Keith’s mind lingered on the feeling of Lance upon his lips. 

_What the hell had he been thinking?_ It was apparent that he wasn’t thinking, and stole that moment. Because Keith, the idiot, couldn’t just break something. He had to shatter it completely.  
Yet his heart wouldn’t stop the stupid _thumpity thump thing_ every time his eyes lingered to Lance, fighting the Galran robots near him. He had his back turned, but the clear message lay in the stiffness of his shoulders, the way he remained with his feet turned from Keith, even when aiming for targets in the Red’s direction. 

Lance’s body was lithe and graceful in the way he moved, agile as he ducked and dodged. Keith felt himself drawn to him, drawn back into the memory of moments before. Heat on his lips, the ghosting breath of Lance against his cheek. The false feeling of the boy’s hands on his chest, fingers curling over the smooth of his armour. 

A laser skimmed the front of Keith’s helmet, pulling his mind from the memories of the stolen kiss.  
He forced himself to forget, to focus, to concentrate as he ran forward, his bayard already drawn before the Galra could open fire. He didn't remember doing so. It came as natural as breathing that now, he sometimes didn't even feel the weapons as swords. It was an extension of himself. A limb that did as it was told.

Not like his heart. Uncontrollable and unthinking.  
It was his heart that had stolen the kiss with Lance. It was his heart that had forged forward, without care for the consequences when it had thrown the words of confession and shattered the pairs relationship.

Keith turned his back on the Cuban, barrelling into the line of charging enemies before he could lose what little focus remained.  
He didn't let his eyes leave the sight of his target, preferring to stick closer to Hunk, letting his body dance to the sound of gunfire in attempts to level the playing field. But a voice over the Comms told him things wouldn’t be as simple as he hoped.

 _[Shiro, I can’t— There’s too many on my tail, I can’t shake them to chase the other group.]_  
_[I’m coming Pidge, just hold on tight,]_ Shiro said, the tension in his voice telling all that it would be harder than he hoped. They had no backup from the castle; all energy levels depleted with no shield and no return fire. Evident when Shiro yelled a warning to the three on the ground. 

_[Get to cover, they’re aiming for you, not the ship!]_

There wasn’t much time to scramble, what with plenty of enemy still raining down heavy fire on their position. Hunk tried to thin the numbers with his mounted machine gun, Lance quick to take out charging androids. But Keith, with only his sword, remained in the thick of it.  
Unable to run or hide, he was easy pickings for the small Djalg bombers that crashed into the canopy above him, setting the giant jungle trees aflame. 

_[KEITH!]_

Keith threw himself into the cover of the nearest tree, vaulting over the confused androids that had stopped to look up and scan the incoming bomber, hidden behind a wall of flames. They didn’t care for their own numbers, only hoping to cut down the numbers of Paladins that fought against them. 

The soldier wouldn’t let them. 

One swing of the sword. One enemy decapitated at his feet.  
Keith pulled out his Marmora blade, swiping it in unison with his Bayard. Five fell at his feet, sparking from cut wires and missing limbs.  
A cry behind him told him to dodge, the Red Paladin listening just as a rocket exploded where he had been. But he hadn’t moved far enough, and thrown with the blast into enemy ranks, was separated.  
Fire surrounded him and his enemies alike, the thick noxious smoke stemming his vision to no more than an arms-length away. The same obstacle affected the androids and provided cover from the two remaining Djalg that hovered in the canopy.  
One, when Hunk managed to down one, then none when the other made to retreat, only to fly into the jaws of Black, who had been waiting for it. 

Still, Keith fought on.

The battalion of twenty-one patrols quickly dropped to seven. Another suicide mission from a swooping Djalg dropped the number to six. With Shiro and Pidge having cleared the skies and joining the fight on the ground, the numbers continued to even out until the sounds of battle was reduced to the call of the cowardly Galran commanders calling a retreat. 

The fire, having consumed many of the lower trunks, and spreading to the vegetation crisp from the planet’s dry season, continued to fill the air with smoke. Keith felt himself becoming unsteady, his sight no further than the reach of his blade.  
Noise surrounded him, disorientating him, confusing him. But still he attacked the Galra that stumbled into the reach of his blades, following the sound of the Galra commanders in hopes of taking out another pest, to slow the force of the Empire. 

Keith saw him.  
He recognised him the second that his sword pierced the boy’s body, finding the weak spot between armour plating, the give of metal as easy as cutting into water. Flesh gave way to sharp metal, awarding Keith with the warmth of blood flowing from handle to wrist and down his arm, soaking into his gloves, wetting his hands as tears wet the boys face. 

Fear and shock forced Keith’s hands forward, the sword still tight in his grip as it settled like an anchor in the other’s chest. Arms locked, they remained together, shock in their eyes, mouths wordlessly open as they stood there, trying to understand, trying to make sense…. 

The boy gasped for breath, dropping his bayard as the strength left shaking fingers. Hands came to Keith’s chest, fingers curling over the lip of the breastplate. He coughed once, twice, a spray of blood splattering on the visor of his helmet.  
The sight of it, and the act of it blocking sight of the other’s face spurred Keith into removing his helmet, and then his own. Their eyes met again; violet and whiskey-gold. 

_“Lance?”_

Lance coughed again, gasping for breath, unable to get any air as blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth, dribbled from the wound in his chest, the wound in his back.  
The sheen of metal that connected the two. One that tore a hole through his body and his heart. His trust. His friendship.

Keith pulled his Bayard from the boy's body, watching Lance stumbled forward into Keith’s waiting arms. Not strong enough to catch him and hold him, too frozen in shock and fear to stop the momentum of two crashing to the ground. 

“No, no,” Keith whispered, warm blood on his cheek, feeling it in his hair as the seas inside Lance poured from the wound. Waterfalls cascaded from his mouth, from the crack in the armour. Sea-salt tears pooling in his eyes as he cried out, finally able to catch a breath, trying to call for help.  
But the Comms couldn’t hear them from where the helmet had been discarded on the grass, quickly stained a dark red. The same dark red as Keith’s mistake. 

Lance tried to move, but the movements of his arms and legs were weak, jerky at best. He rolled from Keith’s chest, lying on his back on the jungle floor. The root of a tree lay under him, his back arched uncomfortably so. He whimpered in pain and tried to breathe. 

Keith tried to breathe too. He couldn’t. Didn’t know why, didn’t understand why not. He just let his body move, on all fours as he crawled to where Lance lay, hands hovering over the wound, knowing he needed to help, not knowing how, if he could, if he even knew how. 

_How had this happened?_

Keith knew how. He knew, but he tried to force himself to believe otherwise.  
He had sensed Lance close by. He knew that the Blue Paladin would worry for his comrade, argument or not, and he’d rush into the thick of it to help him fight his way out of it.  
Of course he had. That was Lance.

And Keith, not as blinded as he believed had known that he who emerged from the smoke was not Galran, was not android or Alien. But Human.  
Keith, who’s ability of swordsman ship lends themselves to his awareness in battle. Be it fighting in Red or hand-to-hand combat, Keith is never unsure about the whereabouts of his teammates, and more importantly where the enemy were.  
_But Lance…._

Lance had been stood on the line. Between friend and foe. Threat and security.  
He had been between.

That was why Keith had attacked. Because of the doubt. The maybe. The might…

He might tell the team.  
He might not.

Maybe he would accept Keith.  
Maybe he wouldn't.

He couldn't.  
He can't.  
Not now, when he lay dying at Keith's feet. At his knees. His tears mixed with Keith's, whose streamed down his face, down his chin, dripping uncontrollably as Keith’s hands reached out and puled the boy close, off the root and onto his lap. He didn’t want to think of the wet warmth against his forehead as he pressed it to Lance’s. He didn’t want to think about the rattled breaths that escaped the boy’s lips. Lips he had been kissing moments earlier. 

_“W-why?”_

Lance’s voice was shallow. Raspy.  
He knew Keith wouldn't make a mistake like this. Not during battle. Not when so much hung in the balance of victory and defeat. Not just for this fight, but all fights to come. Keith wouldn’t lose himself in battle. Not even in training.  
Lance knew this wasn't an accident. This was deliberate.

“HELP ME!” Keith yelled in horror, throwing his head back, begging to whatever gods were torturing him not to let Lance die. He begged for the others to hear him, for someone other than the Galra to find them first. He didn’t hide the desperation from his voice, screaming over and over, begging for Hunk, for Shiro, _anyone_ to help him. 

“Why?” Lance repeated again, coughing the blood that built in his mouth, letting it trail in little streams of lifeforce as his own will to stay awake began to fade with every passing moment. 

“I-I don't know,” Keith sobbed, not caring to hide anything from the boy that should know the truth. Whether it was the pain of murdering Lance, or the sting of the smoke, Keith did not care. He wiped the tears, his eyes taking in the sight of the boy in his arms, taking in every freckled detail, committing it all to memory. In case of _what if…_

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to— I would never— I would _never_ hurt you like this. It’s just… I didn’t trust you. I should've trusted you,” Keith bawled, sobbing as he leaned in, resting his forehead on Lance’s again, hating the slick between skin, the warmth that wasn’t as warm as before.  
“No, no no, you can’t do this. You can’t fall from my mistake. _Please,”_ Keith begged, letting his arms rock Lance, who had laughed in response. The notion fell short as a shout of pain broke free from clenched teeth, his face scrunching up from the pain he felt throughout his body. 

“You… do. You… must’ve,” he sighed, words stronger than before. It gave Keith hope, pulling back, his own eyes looking to the whiskey-gold that stared straight up. “f’ not… you… wouldn’t…’ve told me…” 

Keith smiled, despite the pain that stole his air and stole his happiness. “I do trust you,” he said slowly, eyes fixed upon Lance, who turned to face him. “I trust you, and I love you.” 

It made the other smile.  
Bright, honest.  
“I…” 

But the light faded and the words were lost. Keith watched the gold fade, the blood stop flowing.  
His body grew cold. 

And that was how they found them, with Keith sobbing into Lance’s chest, fingers intertwined with one another. He cradled Lance, his own cheeks stained with tears, his eyes red and shut tight shut to keep himself from seeing the pale face of the boy he still held onto.  
Eyes closed, with his lips pulled into a soft smile as if he was sleeping.

At peace.


End file.
